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Hiking in the Dolomites

Day 2 - Overnighting in a rifugio
by Pokin Y. (on Sep 12, 09)
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Today’s the day we pack our overnight gear.   We’re going to be staying in the Rifgio Lavarella overnight and won’t have access to our suitcase or bag.   The elevation gain is 1,800 metres uphill on a 10km walk.   Overall, not too steep, and the promise of lakes, waterfalls and panoramic views are sufficient motivation.
 
On this day, we’re joined by a new guide, Marica .    She’s an alpine specialist too and has done ascents all over the world.   When not guiding, she’s climbing local peaks with her friends.   Hardcore!   And very cool.   Agustina’s company really takes itself seriously in hiring guides that are highly passionate about the region and the activities that they guide.
 
The morning starts off well enough, and soon we head to a waterfall .   Four at a time, the guides lead us down a narrow path to get a closer look.   The really cool thing about this waterfall is that you can actually walk right under.   Water is spraying on the path everywhere and it’s all thoroughly wet, but it’s so much fun to be there.   We stay for a short while before continuing on the path.
 
As we continue though I start to feel a little ill.   Actually I feel like I’m about to pass out.   First I’m a little dizzy and then chest pains start.   Next I have trouble breathing as though I’m being gagged.    Annoyed as heck but not wanting to slow down the group I try as much as possible to keep up but I slowly slip farther and farther back.
 
Man you suck.   I think .
 
Reluctantly slowing down my pace down even further as the morning progresses, I resign myself to seeing the group again when we get to our lunch destination.
 
I think the guides noticed me missing at some point, because I found Marica waiting for me on the path.   I’m soon joined as well by Karin, and the two guides accompany me, painfully slowly towards our lunch spot.
 
Bit by bit we trek up as   I just focus on putting one step in front of the other.   Countless steps up and down what looked like pretty gentle slopes, past pretty scenery and even our first cow pasture, I see the gang sitting at a crossroads waiting.   Then Karin makes a grand gesture to the left to the group who head on that way, and soon after that we arrive to our lunch spot.
 
Boy I don’t remember the last time I was so happy to see a chair. :p It’s a bit cold so a few of us decide to sit inside, where our lunch options were more traditional fare.   We had a choice of barley soup, polenta with cheese and butter, a type of gnocchi, and a type of egg dish.   I opt for the polenta, which came with this thick white square of cheese.   On a cold day it hit the spot.   We also ordered a pot of tea and got to know one another over our meal.
 
Energized after lunch, I’m able to almost keep up with the gang, made easier by the fact that we were mostly going downhill – which was great except that I was now sore beyond belief as well and had blisters on all my feet.   I’m telling ya I don’t do things half arsed . :)    As fast as I can hobble, using my hiking sticks like crutches, I limp on after the gang down the slope.
 
This time, I decided to hike with Jen and Karin.   Jen and her family were along on the trip.   Jen’s in Croatia discovering her family history, and is writing a book to document her adventures.   Fascinating and adventurous!
 
The nice thing about the afternoon hike was that we got to see our destination.   The hike leads us to the edge of a valley, and nestled in the bottom is the refugio.   As we wandered down the path, the lively sound of voices and music punctured through the sound of gravel crunching under boots.   Louder and louder it got till we saw a group of traditionally dressed people.   My cynical self at first assumed that this was some sort of cultural welcome for us, but I was quickly informed in fact that a wedding was under way.   Better yet – Karin new the bride! Armed with this knowledge and curiosity piqued, we watched with interest as the procession walked past us.
 
Soon after, we arrived to the Refugio and sat down to relax.
 
Agustina had mentioned that Italian refugios are rather nice, and this was definitely one of the nicer rufugios I’ve been to.   Our rooms fit two beds each, with a small sink in each.   There were a panel of shower stalls in the female bathrooms complete with a hair dryer attachment.   As we walked in, we were told by Marica to leave our hiking boots downstairs, and to grab some slippers for use around the refugio.   We went downstairs, parked our boots on these spikes, looked for some slippers picked a couple pairs out, remarked that the sizes were rather large, put them on, and thought no more of it.
 
Later that evening, as we were sitting down for dinner though, this German fellow ran up to Jen, pointing at her slippers.   With the look of relief and with some excited chattering, he grabs them from her.   Turns out that we hadn’t taken the refugio slippers, but had in fact gotten slippers from other guests!
 
Oops!
 
Considering they had been apparently looking for their slippers all afternoon while we were blissfully having nap time while they were having their freak outs, they were pretty good sports about it.
 
The evening festivities were about to continue.
 
Given that this was our first evening to order our own food, decision paralysis kicked in as I flipped through the multi-page menu.   Eventually I took the easy way out by splitting a few dishes with Trish (a fellow Canadian Vancouverite) so that Id’ have more choices.
 
Really in the end though we probably should have ordered way less because I got full just sampling other foods waiting for my meal to arrive.
 
Now while we were napping, Jordan, one of the youngest in the group had wandered after the wedding party and was hanging out with them.   The wedding party group was seated in the benches beside ours and were excitedly chattering away.   At one point, they bring in the waitress for translations and at that point we realized they were chatting about us.
 
Actually specifically they were chatting about Jordan.
 
The official wedding photographer, curiously dressed like a 1800 century relic complete with absurd aviation goggles gestured to Jordan and spoke three English words “Angelina!   Angelina Jolie!”
 
Jordan blushed, and tried to correct the fellow.   “Hi I’m Jordan.”
 
With alcohol as a muffler, the correction did zero good.
 
And all throughout the evening this fellow continued to show up at our table periodically, accompanied by various guys, continually introducing Jordan to his friends as “Angelina.”
 
Poor Jordan.
The only thing good we got out of it at the end was that we decided for her troubles we’d grab the couple of shots of liquor the super drunk gang left on our table.   It was kinda interesting!
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